Cold War School Poem by Michael Kolb

Waves of steam heat buffered us in cold war school
Hiss-ping, hiss-ping, sang the box of heat under the cold window panes

Mittens, rubber boots, and coats lined up like warriors
ready to die in a flash of light in cold war school

Metal lunch boxes- Flying Nun, The Beatles, Evil Knievel-
with thermos's of milk now luke warm and wax paper sandwiches left sad little faces with only the hope of a butterscotch krimpet to revive them, in cold war school

Teachers, with bee hives towering, dispensed only 'authorized' information so outdated that it creaked from loosely bound cloth covered text books wrapped in individually stylized brown bag jackets, in cold war school

Gemini and Apollo, Rowen and Martin, flower power and atomic power, and Jonathan Livingston Seagull offered hope, laughter, horror, and dreams as we prayed for the Kennedy Family, in cold war school.

And I sat dreamily in the warmth of the florescent winter classroom
small face resting in small hands
And wondering at the beauty of the world
the beauty of life
the beauty of love
the beauty of music
and whether today was the day the flash of light would come to my cold war school